


Longdesired Reunion

by obsessive_suki



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Feels, Johnlock Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessive_suki/pseuds/obsessive_suki





	Longdesired Reunion

As he turned his head he saw no other then his dead friend.   
That can’t be… John tried to think but his brain turned into mush when he looked into those multicolored eyes. He couldn’t help but stare, his jaw slightly dropped.   
“Do you know him? What’s going on, John?” Mary tried to talk to him, but all he heard was a low buzzing as his sight started to blur. He shook his head firmly to clear his sight and to get rid of that buzzing.   
His lips were trembling as he lifted his head again to meet the other ones eyes.   
“Ok, short version: not dead.” Sherlock’s soft, velvety voice made his heart flutter in his chest.   
John hasn’t heard the sound of his voice for two years, but he remembered the effect that it has on him too well: trembling legs, inability to breathe properly; never mind thinking.   
He had learnt to hide the impact of Sherlock’s voice over the time they spend together but now…   
Now as the man thought dead stood right in front of him, watching him with that typical courtesy of his, John couldn’t hide anything. It was hard enough to focus on standing on his feet.   
After John gulped hard and swallowed the first shock, he felt anger welling up inside of him; hot and dangerous anger.   
How could he leave him in grief; with the thought of having lost his best friend forever, and then just show up, two years later, thinking everything would be forgotten with an apology?   
John’s jaw tensed up as he gritted his teeth to resist the urge to punch Sherlock in the face.   
A small, awkward smile crept onto Sherlock’s full lips.   
John realized that Sherlock had been talking and opened his mouth to respond, when he noticed that he didn’t even heard what Sherlock had said.   
“I’m suddenly realizing I probably owe you some sort of an apology…”   
That was too much for John Watson. He pounded his fist on the table so hard that the glasses chinked.   
“Two…” he started but his voice left him and his lips were trembling too much to speak. Angrily he bit on his lips to stop the trembling and took a deep breath. He lifted his eyes up to Sherlock.   
“Two years…” he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm himself.   
“I th… I thought…” his hands were trembling now and he felt tears well up behind his closed lids. But he forced them back and somehow he managed it to look back up into Sherlock’s eyes.   
How can a man possibly have such beautiful eyes?   
“I thought you were… dead.” He whispered, almost inaudible.   
He completely forgot about Mary still sitting at the table, staring at the men, unsure what to do.   
“You let me grief... How could you do that?”   
Sherlock cast his eyes down, unable to stand the pain written all over Johns face.   
“How?” his sharp voice forced Sherlock to look up at John again.   
“Wait… before you do anything, that you might regret… just let me ask one question…” Sherlock spoke quickly as always, almost tripping over his own words.   
What could he probably want to ask? Would he ask for forgiveness? John wasn’t sure if he could forgive what Sherlock did to him.   
“Are you really going to keep that?” he affected a laugh and motioned to his upper lip, hinting at John’s mustache.   
John knew exactly that Sherlock couldn’t stay serious because of his lack of experience with such situations. Sherlock simply couldn’t bear the weight of the feelings inside of him.   
And that made him lose his temper.   
John jumped at Sherlock’s throat and tackled him down on the restaurant floor. The surprise effect was on his side and Sherlock struggled with Johns hands around his neck for a moment ere he gave in.   
“I am so sorry, John.”   
Those words surprised John so much that he let go of Sherlock’s throat. Sitting atop of him he starred into those hypnotizing, blue and grey and green and golden eyes.   
“I wish there had been another way. I just wanted to protect you.” the first tear made its way out of his eye and down his cheek, leaving a wet trail along his prominent cheekbone.   
John couldn’t resist wiping it away with his thumb.   
Both men just looked at each other, locked up in each other’s eyes, unaware of all those eyes that were starring at them in confusion.   
Unaware of Mary’s eyes which were filled with tears as she realized how much more then friendship connected those men. She really loved John with all her heart and she knew that John loved her, too but she also knew she couldn’t possibly compete with Sherlock Holmes; no one could.   
“I missed you so much.” John breathed, tears gliding down his face, dropping onto Sherlock’s shirt and tuxedo.   
He wasn’t able to hide his feelings for this man anymore and as Sherlock simply raised his slender hand to John’s cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb, a loving but sad smile on his lips, he knew that he didn’t have to hide them any longer.   
The hand on his cheek slowly slid around his neck and into his hair.   
“Sherlock… I…”   
But he simply shook his head and pulled John’s head down to him until their faces were just a few inches apart.   
“I missed you, too John. More than word could ever say.” His voice was low and velvety and John could see a slight sparkle in Sherlock’s eyes. Ere John could reply anything, Sherlock grabbed into John’s hair and bridged the gap between them by pulling his face even closer to his own.   
As their lips met John felt a firework exploding into butterflies and airplanes inside of him.   
He closed his eyes and buried his hands in Sherlock’s thick, black curls.   
If before they had forgotten about the people around then, they now had forgotten about the whole world. It was just the two of them, the feeling of their lips working against each other desperately, as if they had craved for this kiss for ages.


End file.
